"This is so cool," I said with a giggle. "First class and everything!"

"Hey!" Robert grinned at me. "I told you, my parents are taking care of us, baby."

"Let's see..." A smiling flight attendant looked at my boarding pass. "You're in 3A, that's on the left. We'll be serving a champagne breakfast in the lounge shortly after take-off."

"Great!" I couldn't stop smiling as I looked around the cabin. This was the day after the best day of my life. "We're on our honeymoon."

"Really?" She nodded at that and then did a double-take as she realized I was talking about Robert and me. "You're married to him?"

"Yeah!" I narrowed my eyes and I knew why she looked shocked, but the woman wasn't paying attention to me anyway.

"Good morning, sir," she purred. "I'm Denise and I'll be servicing you all the way to Honolulu."

"Really?" My husband of less than 24 hours gave her a dazzling smile, and a slow, deliberate look up and down. "I'm looking forward to it, Denise."

"So am I," she sighed, batting her big brown eyes and drawing a deep breath. Her breasts, which were already formidable, seemed to grow right before our eyes.

"I should probably help my girlfriend find her seat," Robert said. "I mean, my wife. Sorry. We just got married yesterday."

"She's a very lucky girl," Denise said. "Would your wife like a sleeping pill?"

"Uhhh..." He chuckled and then caught the look on my face.

My husband escaped the flight attendant's evil clutches and sat down beside me in seat 3B, avoiding my eyes and looking through the complimentary first class fruit basket.

"Would you like a cherry?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"I've got one, remember?"

I couldn't stay angry for long. I mean, we were on our honeymoon! We had a seven hour flight to Hawaii and reservations for the Honeymoon Suite at the Turtle Bay Hilton, which doesn't sound all that appealing, but it sure looked nice on the internet. Six whole nights to ourselves in a tropical paradise and I was really looking forward to losing my virginity!

That sounds strange, I know, since Robert and I were legally married and we'd spent all night in the Valentine Suite, since the Marriott's Honeymoon Suite had been booked by someone else. Anyway, we should have consummated our wedding vows the night before, but we'd all gotten a little tipsy at the reception and my sisters, Jilly and Julie, had talked us into going skinny dipping. Except they forgot to tell me! By the time I found Robert and my twin siblings, they'd moved to the Jacuzzi because my four best friends had shown up. Since they were also my bridesmaids, they decided to strip out of their gowns and take turns sitting on the groom's lap and giving him long, deep congratulatory kisses.

Never mind. It's a long story. Suffice to say, my husband had been in no condition to consummate anything by the time those six girls were done with him! And even if he had been, Kylie, my Maid of Honor, was wasiting for us on the bed wearing nothing but a sexy smile. He felt bad about blowing his last load into her womb instead of mine, but their point had been that we'd have a whole week to do nothing but fuck while Kylie went back to work. At least I could sleep with a clear conscience, right?

That morning, feeling much recovered and more like his old self, we had no time for popping my cherry because the desk clerk had forgotten to enter our 6am wakeup call in the computer. We barely made our flight after a security dog had sniffed out one of Jilly's used dildos, at least I think was hers, and Homeland Security had made me empty my suitcase before I could check-in and get a boarding pass. Why my little sister would think I needed a dildo on my honeymoon was beyond me! It was pretty embarrassing, I'll tell you that much.

At least we made the flight and I was glad. Robert's parents were paying for the honeymoon, which was only fair. My parents had paid for the wedding and the reception, of course. Both of our families were kind of rich anyway, although I couldn't say how rich. I only knew we'd always had everything we always wanted, and now we had each other. Sort of alone, I mean, because there was actually a sort of half-wall around the seats, if you can imagine that, and being in first class was a lot like flying in the world's smallest living room. Except we'd pre-boarded ahead of all the people flying business and cattle, so we had kind of a long wait ahead of us.

"Hey, I think these seats fold down," Robert said, wiggling his eyebrows like a little boy. "There's curtains, too."

"Oh!" I giggled and then frowned. "This stupid armrest won't come up."

"Push the button and it'll slide down," a woman said, peering over the wall in front of us. "Hmmm...Do you want to change seats?"

"What?" I realized she was peering at Robert. "No! I'm sitting with my husband. See?"

I held up my left hand, wiggling my ring finger at her.

"Not you!" she said with barely a glance. "The view is much better up here, believe me."

"Me?" Robert chuckled and fixed me with his adoring gaze. "No. I like the view here just fine. Thanks anyway."

"Paris," she said, lifting her blonde head a little higher.

"Wrong way," I snorted. "This flight's to Hawaii."

"Paris Hilton," she continued, ignoring me completely. "Are you famous?"

"No, I'm Robert," he replied. "I've seen you on the internet."

"Would you like to see more of me?"

"I saw quite a bit already."

"You don't want a guided tour of Paris?" she teased in a little girl voice. "I can show you all the hot spots."

"He's already got an all access backstage pass to Janeville," I informed her, and I was tempted to stick my tongue out at her, but famous people frighten me.

"Where's that?" she wondered. "Never mind. Come on, Robert. Sit with me, just until we're in the air. I get so frightened during take-off and Lindsey Lohan drank all my vodka."

"Well..." My husband shrugged. "I guess I could hold your hand."

"What?" I blinked at him.

"Honey," he protested, giving me his best Boy Scout smile. "She needs me. What else can I do?"

"It looks more like something needs her," I sighed, looking pointedly at his crotch. Robert was blessed with an unusually large penis and it always seemed to be hungry.

"Shhh.." He leaned close, whispering, "How many guys get a chance to nail Paris Hilton?"

"All of them?" I guessed, but he shook his head.

"This is just for fun, you know that." He kissed my cheek. "It'll be a good honeymoon story to tell our kids someday. Please? Don't be mad, baby."

"Hmph!" I made a face, rolled my eyes, and finally gave in. I could never say no to the man, not even on my honeymoon. "Alright. Get her autograph for me."

"I will," he promised with a nipple popping grin. "You're the best, Janey! I can't believe you married a slut like me!"

"Me neither," I agreed, but I was giggling and that kind of spoiled it.

"Who's a slut?" Paris wondered, flashing her blue eyes between us. "Are you coming or not, cowboy?"

"I will be!" Robert promised, giving me one more kiss for good luck before he changed seats.

I looked at the wine list while I peeled a banana, but I'm not much of a wine person and I had better things to worry about anyway.

"Oh my God!" Paris gasped. "Is that for me?"

"Yeah, baby. Do you think you could sign it first?" Robert wondered. "Ow! Ouch!"

"Sorry!" She giggled. "I kinda dot my i's too hard sometimes."

"Well, now you have to kiss it and make me feel better."

"Oh! Let me get comfortable first," she sighed. "Jesus! That's a big fuckin' dick, and I know some big fuckin' dicks, believe me. Have you ever met Eminem? He's the biggest dick in the world, but not like yours! He told meeemmph!"

"All the way down," Robert sighed. "You've sucked some cock before, huh?"

"Mmmph-hmmph!"

I leaned forward, loosening my seatbelt so I could half-stand and see what they were doing. It turns out those first class seats do turn into a bed, because my husband was laying flat on his back with his pants around his knees while Paris Hilton crouched beside him in a flimsy mini-skirt and a t-shirt. She had her butt pressed right up against the window, but she obviously didn't care about that. The woman had six inches of Robert's fat cock stuffed in her face and wanted more!

They hadn't even pulled the curtain closed, although I suppose neither of them really cared if anyone knew what they were doing. My husband was a slut and Paris was...Well, she was Paris. Enough said. But it was still kind of embarrassing for me when Denise, the flight attendant, came around with a complimentary box of chocolates.

"We usually don't hand these out on the morning flights," she explained. "But you look like you could use a little something to cheer you up."

"Thanks," I said, and I meant it. "He just can't say no to a pretty face."

"Who can?" she replied with a giggle. "I did Paris the last time she went to Hawaii."

"Oh." I cleared my throat.

"Just push the button if you need anything else," Denise told me before leaning over the seats. "Excuse me, Ms. Hilton, uh...Robert, but we're going to be taking off soon. If you wouldn't mind, I need you two lovebirds to strap yourselves in."

"Can we do it like...Ugh!...This? Spread your legs a little more...Yeah...Oh! You're pretty tight for a blonde, Paris!"

"Oh! Fuck! Uhhhh...Yeah! I have a...Uh...Thai...Trainer! Jesus! I think it's in my uterus!"

"That'll work, I guess," Denise agreed. "I'll come back later and help you guys get loose again."

The plane taxied away from the gate while I listened to the breathless panting of two beautiful people having sex. I decided to eat a chocolate covered cherry. There were only a couple other passengers in first class. One of them looked a lot like that House guy on television, except I heard him speaking on the phone and he had an English accent. The other two were a couple old ladies, like my grandmother's age. They had blue hair and all that, a lot of gaudy jewelry, and way too much makeup. It made me wonder what I'd look like when I got real old, but then I found out they were a couple guys from Twisted Sister and I didn't worry about it so much.

"Oh my God! I'm cumming again!" Paris announced. "I love your fucking cock!"

"I'm gonna cum, too," Robert warned her. "Oh man! I'm gonna blow hard, baby!"

"What? Pull out! You can't cum inside me!"

"Pull out?" My husband laughed. "I think my cock's stuck in your cervix! Jesus! You're tight!"

"Where's the buckle? Can you reach it? Ugh! I'm stuck! My daddy's gonna freeze my trust fund if I get pregnant again!"

"I can't...Uh! It won't open. Shit...Can you call the stewardess? I'm stuck, too! Stop fucking my dick!"

"I'm not fucking anything! You're fucking me! Oh jeeze! That feels so...I'm gonna cum again!"

"Oh no! Sorry...Paris, but...Yessss...Take it, baby! Feel that? I'm cumming!"

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We're waiting for our final clearance to depart Seattle-Tacoma. We're going to be delayed a few minutes because of the weather, but we should be taking off shortly. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for choosing Virgin-Pacific Airlines this morning."

"Delayed?" Paris giggled. "I thought we were already in the air."

"I was, baby," my husband replied. "That was incredible. Are you ready to do it again?"

"Do I have a choice?" she wondered. "I hope they sell morning after pills at the Duty-Free shop."

I had to sit there for another ten minutes listening to my husband fuck Paris Hilton. I could already imagine how excited he'd be to tell all his friends about his brush with fame. They'd wonder where I'd been and it wouldn't even occur to Robert that he could lie and say I was asleep or in the bathroom, or...Well, there aren't too many other excuses, really. But that's not the point. Everyone would know that I'd been sitting in the seat directly behind them, reading a boring in-flight magazine and allowing the man I loved to fuck another woman right in front of me.

True love, that's the only excuse I had. From the very beginning, I'd known Robert couldn't keep his dick dry. He admitted as much and often lamented his weakness for pussy. Of course, most men have the same problem, but with my husband's looks and personality, it wasn't just that he loved fucking women -- They loved fucking him! Beautiful women, like Paris Hilton, had no problems with stealing Robert right out from under me. Heck, my own sisters didn't have a problem with it.

Was I the only woman in the world who thought it was wrong to treat a man with respect? Probably, and only because I wasn't attractive like my sisters, or outgoing like Kylie, who had stood by me in front of God, my parents, and a hundred guests with the groom's semen spilling down her long, black legs. And I certainly wasn't famous, like Paris Hilton, although I wasn't exactly sure why she was famous. I figured she was probably one of those manufactured celebrities, you know? America used to be good at making cars, but now we just made people who looked good on television.

Sadly, I wasn't one of those and we both knew it.

"Your husband's a great fuck," Paris told me, returning him after the plane leveled off at thirty thousand feet.

"Hi, Janey." Robert kissed my cheek and he looked exactly like what he was, a slut who had spent the last hour on his back. His face was red, his hair all over the place, and he smelled like some other girl's pussy.

"You're a mess," I told him, frowning.

"So am I," Paris said with a frown of her own. "Where's that stewardess. I know she likes her eggs runny. How about you, wifey?"

"What about me?" I stared at her.

"Ever sucked the cunt that fucked your husband?" she wondered as a smile crept across her flushed face. "Yeah, beggars can't be choosers, huh?"

"No!" I blinked at her. "I'm not, um...I never...No!"

"Don't lie to me," the woman said with a grin. "A real woman would kick my ass for nailing her husband, but you want to kiss it, don't you?"

"Lick her pussy," Robert whispered, giving me his dark, sapphire eyes and a sweet smile. "That would be so sexy, Honey. I love it when suck off my lovers."

"Don't..." I tried to push his hand from my thigh, but it felt good and I knew exactly how much he liked watching me go down on the women he fucked.

"Come on, dykey wifey." Paris jerked her head towards the empty seats directly in front of mine. "We all know you're going to do it anyway."

"Please?" Robert nuzzled my neck and stroked my tummy through my blouse. "It would make me so happy. Just give her a little lick, okay? Get me in the mood for love."

"Huh?" I looked my husband in the eye. "You mean, if I go down on her, you'll make love to me?"

"I can feel my dick getting hard already," he assured me. "I'll fuck you nice, baby. I just want to see you sucking Paris off first, okay?"

"Well..." I had to smile then. "Only because I love you so much."

"I know," Robert agreed, kissing me lightly on the lips. "I love you too, Janey. You're the best wife in the whole world."

I wasn't a lesbian, or even bisexual, but I really did love Robert and once he started using his boy charms on me, I was lost. He looked too handsome, too incredibly sexy just sitting there, and I had to admit that listening to him fuck Paris had gotten me very wet. I know it shouldn't have turned me on. It should have made me angry. I should have yanked the bitch off my husband's cock and slapped her beautiful face, but I hadn't done anything like that. I'd sat there eating chocolate covered cherries, rubbing my thighs together, and wishing he would fuck me that way.

"You've got a face made for sitting on, wifey," Paris told me as she held her sperm dripping hole just inches above my mouth. "Mmmm...Like a public toilet. Use your tongue first."

The woman left me little choice as she put me on my back, laying down in the exact same spot my husband had been just a short time before. I could feel the wet spot they'd left behind soaking through my blouse and it reeked of girl goo and semen. I tried to ignore it as I extended my tongue and tickled Paris Hilton's pink, clean shaven sex. She had a pretty one, and even a straight girl like me can appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the female form. It doesn't make me queer. Neither does lapping at the soft, tangy flesh of another woman's vulva, although I did feel a rush of guilt, even shame, and definitely a touch of humiliation. I was only doing it because Robert wanted me to, it wasn't like I was a lesbian, and certainly not a dyke!

"Uh-huh!" Paris smiled down at me. "You've sucked pussy before, haven't you? Come on, you can tell me."

"Noooo..." I sighed, gathering a dollop of semen from the inside of her left thigh.

"You're one of those ugly girls who cruise the YWCA looking for a Daddy," she continued. "Sucking off the lifeguards in the showers. I bet you took swimming lessons every year just so some lezzie would have an excuse to play with your ass."

"Uh-uh!" I closed my lips around her long, gaping labia, pinching them together and shaking my head. They were plump and rubbery and succulent with fuck juice.

"A little closet rug muffin," she sighed. "And then you grew up and married this guy? Nothing personal, Robert, you've got a great cock, but no self-respecting woman in her right mind would marry a slut like you!"

"I know," he said, and I hadn't realized he was sitting next to me. My only view was of Paris Hilton's cunt.

"Why marry a cock, when you can fuck it anytime you want?" she wondered, teasing me with a giggle. "Oh! I forgot. You aren't a self-respecting woman at all, are you? No tits, a flat ass...Maybe if you laid off the chocolate, your face would clear up."

"Mmmph-hmmmph," I agreed, and I'd been told that before, but worrying about my bad complexion drove me to chocolate. It was a vicious circle.

"Ohhhh...That tickles!" Paris laughed and squirmed with her anus planted firmly on my nose. She had a surprisingly moist sphincter, buttery and smelling like roses as it parted easily for my odd penetration. Only a gorgeous woman like her would have such a ridiculously gorgeous asshole and she tried to fuck my nose with it while my tongue wriggled inside her sloppy, cum drenched beaver. I hoped I wouldn't sneeze.

My husband's salty spunk spilled into my mouth and I didn't think twice about swallowing the stuff. I ate a lot of Paris with it, since she'd been cumming lights out while Robert had fucked her. I tasted her oily juices and the idea of sucking down another woman's cum always filled me with a deep sense of shame. I told myself I was only doing it for Robert, because I loved him so much. I didn't understand why it turned him on to see his wife cleaning the pussy he'd just fucked, but I knew it did. Once in awhile he'd try to talk me into a threesome, a real one, but I wasn't quite ready to go that far.

"That's it, dykey wifey, eat that nasty spunk. Swallow it! I should make you pay me for serving you breakfast in bed," Paris taunted me. "I can't believe you married a lesbian, Robert. No wonder you have to fuck other women."

"Well, she's not really a lesbian," he replied, coming to my defense like a good husband should. "She has self-esteem issues."

"I bet!" Paris giggled. "If I looked like her, I'd buy a dog and shove a Slim Jim up my ass. Like canine Viagra. Speaking of ass...How do you like mine, wifey? You're lucky I have an enema fetish."

"Umph-hmph!" I agreed, slapping her stiff clitoris with my tongue as the woman's juices ran down my chin, around my neck and into my hair. I'd smell like pussy all day long probably, and my honeymoon wasn't starting out the way I'd planned at all.

"Spread your legs, Janey," Robert told me. "I really need to blow a nut. Jesus! You look sexy as hell with Paris sitting on your face like that."

"Hmmph?" I blinked, but all I could see was the woman's firm, pale ass. My husband was finally going to make love to me? I'll admit, he hadn't made it sound very romantic, not like I'd always imagined our first time would be, but even so...I was going to give him my virginity! Or he was going to take it anyway, but it amounted to the same thing because I'd been saving it only for the man I loved.

"Ahhh...Someone's excited, I see," Paris said, grabbing my smallish tits through my blouse and bra as I quickly spread my legs as wide as possible.

I wore a modest skirt and my husband pushed it upward to expose my plain white panties. I wondered if he'd kiss me first. All my friends had told me how talented Robert's tongue was and I dreamed of feeling his mouth on my pussy, getting me hot and wet and ready for his massive cock. I tried to lift my head, wanting to push Paris off me, but that only drove my nose that much deeper into her asshole. My fingers impatiently slapped her smooth thighs and she decided to take that as a suggestion to start riding my face like a cowgirl.

"Woo-hoo!" she hollered with a laugh. "Your wife was made for my ass, Robert. I love flying first class!"

He didn't reply to that, but instead, my husband ripped my panties right down the middle and that was more like it! I shivered and dug my finger's into Paris Hilton's thighs, shoving my tongue deep inside to find another goopy lump of girl flavored sperm oozing down the throat of her quivering vagina. Robert knelt between my legs and slapped my tummy several times with his cock. I'd seen it before, obviously, but I'd never felt it with anything but my hands and very occasionally with my lips. I jerked as I felt the warm, heavy weight of his ten inch babymaker stretching from my pussy past my belly button, aimed straight for my heart.

"It'll never fit," Paris predicted. "Maybe you should let a real woman take care of you."

"No," Robert sighed. "I've been waiting my whole life for this."

"Ummph-hmmph!" I agreed around a mouthful of snot-like cum.

I swallowed thickly and closed my lips around the woman's vulva, desperately wishing I could kiss my husband. But if I couldn't make out with him at the moment of truth, I'd spend my oral affection on the next best thing, the cum dripping snatch of the woman he'd most recently fucked. I imagined kissing Robert, vividly recalling the many times we'd made out over the years. I kept my lips sealed around Paris Hilton's distended labia and worked my tongue inside her cunt as gently and sweetly as I knew how.

"Oh fuck!" she gasped. "She's making out with my cunt!"

And that's about the time Robert pressed the blunt, bulbous head of his cock against my maidenhead and tore through it with one quick thrust of his hips. I would have screamed in pain if I hadn't been so busy cumming. I wanted it to hurt and my husband didn't disappoint me. The pain, like a sharp pinch, except more, rocketed through me on a wave of pleasure. I wanted to hug the man, to wrap him up in my arms and kiss his face and let him see the joy spilling wetly from my eyes, but all I could do was cling to Paris Hilton's thighs and wriggle my tongue inside her cum filled twat as her orgasm peaked with mine.

"Mmmm..." she sighed as I became aware of the passionate grunts and groans and deep throated moans of two people swapping spit.

My husband wanted to kiss someone as well, probably me, but since I was unavailable, he'd reached for the next best thing -- The beautiful celebrity that he'd probably knocked up just a short while before. Robert was fucking me, and quite tenderly, I might add, but sharing deep, soul-searing French kisses with Paris Hilton at the same time. Thankfully, being a twenty-two year old virgin meant that my innocent vagina had no idea what it was supposed to do in case of emergency.

I could feel the taut muscles straining to push Robert's penis out of me, but that only made him try harder. I'd offer muffled yelps as his cock would force its way towards my womb inch by inch, refusing my body's instinctive efforts to resist. My legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as I tried to help. I wanted him inside me, all of him balls deep with his cockhead bruising my cervix when he filled my fertile womb with his sperm. I was ovulating and we both knew it. I'd planned my wedding to make sure we'd start a family on our wedding day. Well, we'd missed our shot the night before, but this would be almost as good.

"Ummm...I love you so much, baby," my husband sighed, rocking his fat cock in and out of me. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

"Uhmph-hmph!" I nodded my head as Paris shifted her hips, pulling her asshole off my nose so she could grind her pussy on my face.

"Me too," she whispered. "Why don't you take your cock out of your wife and put it back inside me where it belongs?"

"Ooomph?" I shook my head at that idea and tightened my legs to make sure Robert wouldn't pull out of me before he creamed my uterus.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, pumping me slowly while they talked. "We really want to start a family and I think Janey's ovulating."

"So? You've already started a family," she reminded him. "I know I'm ovulating. I'll probably have twins after that second load you gave me."

"Heh!" Robert chuckled. "I hope they're boys."

"Me too!" Paris laughed with him. "Maybe we should do it again just to make sure. I'm sure your dykey wifey won't mind if we do it on her face."

"I guess we can always make a baby later," my husband agreed. "We're going to be on our honeymoon for the next six days."

"Really?" she asked, widening her knees and leaning back on stiff arms. "Where are you staying?"

"Turtle Bay Hilton," Robert replied, pulling his cock out of my pussy. That was a new and unexpected sort of discomfort as my vagina tried to remember its original shape.

"Me too!" Paris giggled, covering my eyes, cheeks, and forehead with her ass.

Her drooling pussy tickled my nose and I drank much needed cool air into my lungs, but only until my husband crawled up my body and started pushing his cock into the woman's hole. The shaft slid across my lips until his damp, heavy balls slapped my chin. They were fucking on my face and it wasn't entirely comfortable, but at least I was able to lick and kiss Robert's thick penis as he worked it back and forth. I lapped my own cum from the shaft until it was quickly replaced with Paris Hilton's oily juices, and in truth, we tasted about the same. I found that oddly reassuring, but we didn't have much else in common at all, as I well knew.

They were undoubtedly kissing again as Robert knelt over me with his knees wedged into my armpits, holding the woman and filling her mouth with his tongue while they fucked. That was annoying, especially as her butt would slide around on my face, and I was a little miffed that he'd pulled out of me just so he could take another run at Paris Hilton's other trust fund, but at least I wasn't a virgin! That bit of good news cheered me up and by the time Robert pushed his cock one last time into her sloppy cunt, I'd stretched my mouth around his balls, nursing on those heavy orbs while they pumped jet after jet of hot potent sperm into another woman's womb. It was my little way of letting him know I was still his faithful, loving wife.

I only wished he hadn't invited her to stay in the Honeymoon Suite with us, but that's what I get for marrying a slut.

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